Someone To Turn To
by Mimbulus
Summary: What if the Dursleys had gone on the reality show Wife Swap when Harry was nine years old? It doesn't change the canon plotline, but it's AU because Wife Swap didn't exist in England in 1989.
1. The Day of the Swap

Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own Harry Potter, and yeah, I don't work for the show Wife Swap. Okay?

A/N: Well, this is my first ever posted fanfic. Wish me luck!

"We're doing WHAT?" shouted Mr. Vernon Dursley of Number 4, Privet Drive.

"Wife Swap," said his wife, Petunia, timidly. "It's a reality television show. The wives of two families switch places for two weeks."

"And remind me," said Mr. Dursley, beginning to calm down, "remind me _why_ you signed up for this?"

"All of my friends were. I couldn't be the only one who didn't," said Mrs. Dursley.

"So these people decided we should be on the show, yes?"

"Yes," replied Mrs. Dursley.

"Well, what are we going to do with the boy?"

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley were the proud parents of one Dudley Dursley, aged nine. In their opinion, he was the finest boy who ever lived. Dudley, who weighed 200 pounds, enjoyed beating people up more than anything in the world.

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley were also the not-so-proud aunt and uncle of Harry James Potter, who lived with them. The Dursleys hated Harry, and Mr. Dursley was right to ask what they would do with the boy while on a reality television show, because to most of the world, Harry's childhood wouldn't qualify as "normal." He did four times as many chores as his cousin, was entirely too light for his age, and wore his cousin's hand-me-downs, which were four sizes too large. To top it all off, he slept in the cupboard under the stairs.

Mr. Dursley, however, didn't appear to be worried about what the world thought of the treatment of Harry, but rather whether anyone would discover the boy's secret.

"What if he does something…abnormal?"

Mrs. Dursley sniffed. "He hasn't for over a year. He should be fine for two weeks."

"Okay," said Mr. Dursley. "If you really want to do this, we will."

Christine Walker stepped out of the limousine and surveyed the house in which she was to spend the next two weeks. It was identical to all the other houses on the street, and if it weren't for the large brass "4" on the door, she wouldn't have been at all sure that she was at the right place.

Christine was 34, with a seven-year-old daughter, Jessica, and a husband, David. She was tall, of average weight, and had shoulder length brown hair. Her eyes were sparkling brown, and there was a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks, giving her a youthful look.

Christine was a businesswoman. She worked at a major television company, and her husband did most of the cleaning at home. She did, however, get home at 6 o'clock on weekdays; in time for dinner.

She had no idea what the family she would be living with was like, except that there were two boys, a husband, and a wife, but she knew enough about "Wife Swap" to know that it would be very different from her own. The wife was probably a stay-at-home mom. Christine walked up the driveway to the house, and stopped at the door, which was painted red to match the shutters. She held out the key which she had been given and stepped into the house.

She had two hours before anyone was supposed to get home. In that time, she was supposed to explore the house and read the "manual" that the woman, Petunia Dursley, had left behind for her, all the while being followed around by the cameras. She guessed she would have to get used to those cameras.

Christine's first impression of the house was that it was too clean. Everything was spotless. There were no foot prints on the floor, no smudges on the wall, no specks of dirt in the carpet. It looked as if no one lived there. The cleanness unnerved her, and she immediately decided that she would have to mess it up a little. She voiced her opinion to the cameras, feeling very silly, as if she were talking to herself.

Christine was about to move from the entry hall into the family room when she noticed a small cupboard under the stairs. Thinking that it was a place to put her coat, she opened the door and gasped in shock at what she saw.

There, in that tiny cupboard, no more than six by four feet from side to side and five feet tall, there was a cot. On the cot lay a blanket and pillow, and she could see clothes protruding from underneath. Behind the bed on a shelf lay a few toys and three books. This cupboard, unlike the rest of the first floor so far, looked very, very much lived in.

Christine backed out of the cupboard in shock, and the cameras moved in to get a view.

"It looks…It looks like someone sleeps in there," she stuttered. That wasn't possible, though. There was no way that someone could actually _live_ in that cupboard!

Christine decided to leave the mystery of the cupboard behind and explore the family room. There, she found tasteful furniture, a 32 inch television, and many pictures of the family on the mantle and walls. There was something amiss in those photographs, though. She just couldn't figure out what. Then she realized; _there were only three people in the photos_. The producers of "Wife Swap" had told her that she was swapping into a family of four. Had they given her the wrong information? In these photographs, there was only one boy, and a rather large one at that. They'd told her that there were two boys. It was yet another mystery for Christine to figure out.

Christine peeked into the kitchen to find yet another unnaturally clean room. She saw the "manual" sitting on the kitchen table and decided to leave it until she had seen the upstairs.

The upstairs appeared to be much the same as the first floor, at least at first. The first room she went into was obviously the master bedroom. There was a king-sized bed with a blue comforter, two bureaus, and an adjoining bathroom. Everything was spotless.

The next room was similar to the master bedroom, except that the bed was king-size, there was only one bureau, and the color scheme was green. She decided it was probably a guest bedroom upon examining the bureau and finding no clothes in the drawers.

It wasn't until after she'd seen the gleaming bathroom that things began to change. Christine opened a door to see another bedroom. This one had a bed with a white blanket and a bureau, but they were hard to see for all the clutter. Everywhere, there were toys. She could see a broken television, a broken air rifle, a broken just about everything. There were also books, but they didn't look used, let alone broken. The room looked as if it _should_ be lived in, but it was hard to imagine someone owning so many broken things. It made more sense than sleeping in a cupboard, though.

The last room was also a bedroom, and also a mess, but nothing there was broken. Everything was brand new. Christine saw a television, a computer, a video game station, and a stereo, among other things. Food wrappers littered the floor, and clothes were thrown everywhere. Christine didn't venture into the room to examine further. This was obviously one of the boys' rooms.

Having explored the entire house, it was time for Christine to read the manual that Petunia Dursley had left behind, directing her on how to run the house. The things specified in the manual were things that Christine would have to do for an entire week until she got to change the rules.

Christine settled herself at the table in the immaculate kitchen and began to read the neat little booklet entitled, "Guide to the Running of the Dursley Household."

As Christine read, she grew more and more shocked and outraged. As it turned out, the Dursleys _did_ have two boys. They just didn't have two sons. Their nephew, Harry Potter, lived with them, and had ever since he was a year old and his parents had died in a car crash. Harry, the manual said, helped Petunia cook dinner every night, and then cleaned up afterwards. He made Dudley's lunch in the morning, and weeded the garden after dinner in the evenings. His bedtime was nine, and he did, indeed sleep in the cupboard under the stairs. Dudley's bedtime was "whatever time he feels appropriate," and he, unsurprisingly, slept in the room upstairs with the television and computer.

There were other rules- something about a tea party every day- but Christine ignored them. She kept coming back to the rules dealing with Harry Potter. Surely this was a joke. No one could be so blatantly unfair to their own nephew.

When Christine was done reading the manual, she looked at her watch. It was 4:02. According to the booklet, the boys should be getting home from school right about now.

As if on cue, Christine heard the front door open. She was about to meet the family.


	2. Meeting the Family

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter or Wife Swap. No one on does.

A/N: Well, I just got my first review ever. I'm so excited! It's great! Thank you, **american-born-confused-desi**! On with the chapter!

Christine got up from the kitchen table and walked to the entry hall. There, framed by the open doorway, stood a small scrawny boy. He had messy jet-black hair and thick, black, broken glasses. His clothes were worn and much too big for him. This must be Harry.

Christine noticed all of this in a split second. Then, her observations were cut short abruptly as Harry tripped through the doorway and hit the wall painfully. Or, more accurately, was pushed.

"Move over, Potter!" said a very large boy who could only be Dudley, who was coming through the door. "_I'm_ going to be the first to meet her!"

Dudley scurried over to Christine. "Hello, m'am. My name is Dudley Dursley, and I'd like to welcome you to my house. It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, with a fake smile and even faker courtesy. He extended a fat hand.

Christine grabbed it and shook it. "Hello, Dudley. It's nice to meet you too. You can call me Christine." Her courtesy was equally fake, but Dudley missed the sarcasm.

As Dudley hurried past her and into the kitchen, Christine walked over to Harry and helped him up.

After he was standing, Harry greeted Christine. "Hello Mrs. Walker. I'm Harry." Harry's smile and courtesy were both obviously sincere.

"Hello Harry," said Christine, smiling warmly down at the little boy. Now that he was closer, Christine noticed several things about him. One was that was tiny- he looked closer to six than to nine. The second was that he had a thin lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. The third thing was his eyes. They were the most beautiful emerald eyes Christine had ever seen. But there was also something haunting about him. In contrast to his body, Harry's eyes looked very, very old.

"You can call me Christine," she said.

"It's nice to meet you…Christine," said Harry. He looked unused to an adult being nice to him. _And no wonder, with his aunt and uncle…_ thought Christine.

The nice moment was broken by a shout from the kitchen. "POTTER! Make me a snack!"

"Er…I'd better go," said Harry, shuffling past Christine to the kitchen. Christine followed him.

"What d'you want, Dudley?" Harry asked wearily.

"Crisps," said Dudley expectantly.

"Okay," said Harry, walking towards a cabinet next to the stove. He opened it to reveal countless junk foods. He groped inside and came out with a bag of potato crisps.

"Here you go," he said, handing them to Dudley.

"I want soda too," said Dudley.

"Alright," said Harry. He got a can of soda from the refrigerator and a glass from a cabinet. He was just about to pour the drink, when Dudley made another demand.

"Ice, too," said Dudley.

Christine couldn't believe that a boy could be so demanding and spoiled. And Harry was just taking it! Something was wrong here.

When Dudley's snack was to his liking, he retreated to his room, his feet making loud _thumps_ on the stairs.

"So, Harry," said Christine, "now that your cousin's gone would you like to talk?"

"About what?" asked Harry.

"Anything," said Christine.

"Okay," said Harry, "but first, would you like some tea?"

"Alright," said Christine.

Harry moved to start making the tea, but Christine stopped him. "No," she said. "You sit down and _I'll_ make the tea. Just tell me where it is."

Harry told her where to find the tea bags and kettle, and as Christine set the kettle up, they talked.

"So how was school, Harry?" Christine asked when the kettle had started heating and she had sat down.

"Well…it was… It was okay, I guess."

"You guess? What was wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," said Harry, looking down at the table. "Just kids bothering me, is all."

"Bothering you? How?"

"Some kids just like to chase me around at recess. It's no big deal."

Christine was pretty sure it _was_ a big deal, but she wasn't going to push it. "Who are the kids that chase you, Harry?" she asked, trying to make it seem like an innocent question.

Harry's gaze sank even lower, so that he was looking at his knees. "Mostly- Mostly Dudley, and some of his friends."

Of course. She should have seen that one coming.

"He doesn't seem like the nicest boy ever."

"No, I guess not," said Harry.

At that moment, the kettle began to whistle. Christine got up and poured water over the teabags. She set one mug in front of Harry and sat down with the other in front of her.

"So how long have you lived with the Dursleys?"

"Since I was one," said Harry, almost sadly.

"That's… eight years, right?" Christine asked.

"Yeah."

"So why aren't you in any of the photos?"

"What photos?" asked Harry, puzzled.

"The photos in the family room. You're not in any of them. Why?" said Christine.

"Well, I guess they just don't like me much. They like to pretend as much as I can that I don't exist," said Harry.

Christine felt as if her heart was being ripped out of her chest. She had known this little boy for less than half an hour, and already she felt so sorry for him. Had he really grown up knowing he was so unwanted?

"That's terrible," she said.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but he never got a chance to say anything, because at that moment, the front door could be heard opening again.

Vernon Dursley was home.

A/N: Alright, it's short, and not much happens, but it's one of those kind of filler chapters. It's necessary for Christine to meet Harry and get to know him a little.

Thank you so much to the one person who reviewed!

**american-born-confused-desi:** My first ever reviewer! Yes, I researched Wife Swap Harry Potter fics, and as far as I know, there's only one other on and that one's about Mrs. Weasley. I get weird ideas sometimes. And I'll have a lot of little cliffies like that.

**JuzFlo:** I do too. That's partly what prompted me to write this story. I wanted to present Harry's childhood from an outsider's perspective.

Please take the time to review, because I it's wonderful getting them!


	3. Dinner

Disclaimer: I waved the Harry Potter wand that I bought, but I still don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: Yay! I never actually expected so many reviews! I'm going to answer one reviewer's question for everyone. **Mystical Witch** brought up the fact that the Dursleys would be arrested for neglect and child endangerment. Well, before I started writing the story, I did consider it ending with Harry being taken away from the Dursleys. But after long consideration, I decided that I didn't want to mess with the plot of the books. I just wanted to give people a glimpse of Harry's childhood. So no, Harry will not be taken away from the Dursleys and they won't be arrested. For one thing, they're not neglecting him, really. They do feed him, and give him clothes. And they're not exactly endangering him either. They're extremely mentally abusive, which is appalling, but hard to prove. If you don't think that these are good enough arguments, then I ask you to please suspend disbelief for a while, and remember that this story _is_ slightly AU.

* * *

As soon as the door was opened, Harry jumped to his feet and poured his tea down the sink. Then he began washing the mug.

A very large man entered the room. Christine had seen him in the photographs in the family room, but they hadn't really conveyed just how large this man was. She stood up, but he was still at least six inches taller than her, and much, much wider.

"Hello, Mrs. Walker," he said, holding out a hand. Christine suddenly figured out where Dudley Dursley had learned his sickeningly-sweet fake courtesy.

"You can call me Christine," she said, shaking his hand.

"And I'm Vernon," he said.

"It's very nice to meet you, Vernon," she said. Vernon Dursley was apparently as stupid as his son, because he too missed the sarcasm in her voice.

"Nice to meet you too," said Vernon gruffly.

"What are you doing, boy?" Vernon said, turning to Harry.

"I-I'm washing some things from tea," said Harry quickly.

"Tea?" Vernon asked.

"I made tea for Harry and myself so that we could talk," said Christine, sensing that some explanation was needed.

Vernon was turned towards Harry, so Christine missed his raised eyebrow. The cameras didn't.

Christine found the whole situation very awkward, so she decided it was time to get Vernon out of the room.

"Well, it's five o'clock now. I should probably start dinner," she said.

"Okay," said Vernon. "You be sure to help her, Harry."

"Yes Uncle Vernon," said Harry obediently.

With that, Vernon left the kitchen. A moment later, Christine heard a television being switched on and the five o'clock news blaring.

"Well, Harry, I guess I should get started on dinner. What do you think I should make?" said Christine.

"Well… I guess chicken and mashed potatoes. And broccoli," said Harry.

"That sounds good," said Christine. "So I guess the chicken and broccoli are in the refrigerator."

"Yeah," said Harry. "And we have boxed mashed potatoes in that cupboard." He pointed to a cupboard near the sink.

"Okay, I'll get started then," said Christine, searching for the chicken in the refrigerator.

Harry started to get the mashed potatoes out of the cupboard.

"You don't have to do that, Harry," said Christine quickly.

"I always help with dinner," said Harry.

As much as Christine hated to admit it, Harry was right. It was part of the rules. But she decided she was going to have Harry do as little as possible.

When dinner was finished, Christine called to Vernon and Dudley.

"Dinner's ready!"

Immediately footsteps could be heard thumping down the stairs. The television stopped blaring and Vernon appeared in the kitchen, followed shortly by Dudley. The two sat down at the kitchen table which Christine had set for four.

Harry moved to start serving the food, but Christine gently nudged him toward the table. He sat down, and Christine set the food on the table and poured water for three of them and soda for Dudley.

Dudley was the first to take food. He loaded his plate with half of the mashed potatoes and an entire chicken breast. He didn't take any broccoli.

Vernon went next. He took both chicken legs, a good portion of the mashed potatoes that were left, and only two pieces of broccoli.

Christine waited a moment for Harry to start getting food for himself before she realized that _he_ was waiting for _her_. Uncertainly, she served herself a piece of chicken breast, a spoonful of mashed potatoes and six pieces of broccoli.

Finally it was Harry's turn. He took a spoonful of mashed potatoes, what was left of the chicken breast, and a few pieces of broccoli.

"So," said Vernon, getting the conversation started, "you've met Dudley, then? Best boy there is!"

Christine thought back on Dudley pushing his cousin through the door and the veritable tantrum he threw over his snack.

"Oh yes," she said tonelessly. "Lovely."

Sometimes, Christine decided, she was too polite for her own good.

"This one, on the other hand," said Vernon, gesturing toward Harry with a fork full of mashed potatoes, "he's no good. A delinquent, he is. Just like his parents, they…"

But just what Harry's parents were, Christine would never find out. Vernon had trailed off. He was still moving his mouth as if trying to talk, but no sound was coming out. The cameras zoomed in on his face.

Christine turned in surprise to Harry and found that his kind, curious, emerald eyes were now a hard mixture of deep anger and deeper fear.

Vernon cleared his throat and appeared to regain the power of speech. After glaring at Harry, he resumed speaking, this time changing the topic to drills. Christine zoned out for the rest of the meal.

When dinner was over, Christine began to clear the table. She didn't see Vernon pull Harry aside and tell him to go straight to his cupboard, and that there had better not be anymore "funny" business while she was at the house.

She did, however, see Harry slink dejectedly off to his cupboard, and as she washed the dishes, she decided that as soon as she was done, she would go see him.

A/N: Well, there's the next chapter! I hope you liked it! Thank you so much to the people who reviewed!

**Mystical Witch: **I already answered part of your review at the top, but about the cameras, they're there, I just wasn't mentioning them. I put in a couple of references in this chapter.

**HaRrYrOxMuhSoX: **Thank you!

**LittleEar BigEar's sis:** Thank you so, so, so, so much! I am _so_ honored that you like my story so much! Thank you so much for reviewing!

**american-born-confused-desi:** I tried to fit in a little bit of description this time. The first chapter had almost no dialogue, and I guess the second chapter just evened that out a bit. I promise I'll read you're story.

I'll leave you with a plea for reviews, because I've just discovered how wonderful they are!


	4. Connecting

Disclaimer: Still not J.K. Rowling. I tried. I really did!

A/N: Well, I'm back! This isn't the most fast-paced chapter (although, sadly, none of them will be very fast-paced), but I hope you like it!

* * *

Christine, having finished cleaning the kitchen, ventured out into the hallway. She had a few questions for Harry, not the least of them being, _what had happened to Vernon's voice at dinner_? 

As she approached the cupboard under the stairs, however, she heard strange whimpering sounds. At first it reminded Christine of the wind, but then she realized that it sounded much more like… a child crying.

She gently opened the cupboard door. Harry was sitting on his cot, knees drawn up to his face, arms wrapped around his legs. At the sound of the door opening he looked up.

All thoughts of questioning Harry flew out of Christine's head as she saw the stated that the child was in. His face was tracked with tears, and even though it was obvious that he was trying to stop, tears continued to leak from his eyes. He was making faint sobbing sounds.

"Oh, Harry," she said softly.

Christine realized that the cameras had followed her.

"Do you mind?" she said indignantly to the cameramen. They shrugged and continued filming.

She gave an indignant groan, then entered the cupboard and slammed the door after her.

Inside the cupboard it was small, cramped, and dark. Christine felt a string dangling from the ceiling and pulled it to find that a light bulb flared above her.

She turned to Harry, as well as she _could_ turn in the cramped space of the cupboard. Tears were still flowing from his eyes.

"What's wrong, Harry?" she asked gently.

"E- Everything," Harry choked softly through sobs.

"Oh, Harry," said Christine once again, and she cradled the boy in her arms.

After half an hour, Harry's sobs ceased and his breathing slowed, and Christine saw that he was asleep. She gently laid him on his bed and covered him with the blanket.

* * *

When Christine exited the cupboard, she noticed the cameras were gone. They were waiting for her in the kitchen, though. She glared at them and stomped up to the guest bedroom. She felt like turning in early tonight. 

The next morning Christine woke up at seven; before Dudley, after Harry. When she got down to the kitchen, Harry was frying bacon. Christine took the pan from him.

"Don't do that. I'll take care of breakfast," she said.

Harry didn't protest. He went to a drawer and pulled out two brown paper lunch bags. He began packing two lunches, one for Dudley and one for him. One lunch, which Christine assumed was Dudley's, had two ham sandwiches, three candy bars, and two cans of soda.

The bacon was done and Christine had started scrambling eggs when Vernon and Dudley came downstairs.

Dudley quickly ate half of the bacon. He had only just finished eating it when Christine set the eggs down on the table, which he promptly ate most of too.

"Good morning Dudley, Vernon," she said.

"'Morning," said Dudley in between bites.

"Good morning Christine," said Vernon. He was wearing a grey business suit and a truly awful yellow and green checked tie.

"Finished," said Harry. He handed a bursting lunch-bag to Dudley and took the much smaller one for himself. Christine looked on disapprovingly, but realized that there was little she could do for the situation. Yet.

Vernon looked at his watch. "It's time for you two to catch the bus," he said.

The unfairness of it astounded Christine. Dudley had eaten over half of the food for the entire family, while Harry hadn't gotten any breakfast at all because he was too busy making Dudley's lunch! There was nothing she could do. The children did have to go to school.

When Harry and Dudley were gone Christine sat down to eat her breakfast in silence. Needless to say, she ate much less than Dudley had.

"Oh! I must be off!" said Vernon a few minutes later. "Don't want to be late for work!"

"Have a good day," said Christine, while secretly wishing that he would spill coffee all over his vile tie.

"I will. Goodbye!"

"Bye," said Christine. A moment later she heard the door slam and a car engine start, and then all was silent again.

* * *

An hour later, Christine had finished breakfast and cleaned the kitchen, and was now checking the rulebook to see exactly what time she was supposed to be at Mrs. Harris's house. Apparently Petunia Dursley went to lunch and tea at a friend's house every weekday. 

There! 11:30! That left her with an hour and a half to get ready and more importantly, to think about her situation. Or rather, Harry's.

It was unthinkable that people could show their own nephew such blatant unfairness. The boy was only nine years old, but he was supposed to cook and clean more than Petunia! Why? What led the Dursleys to act this way?

_Well_, she thought, _they're not the nicest people to begin with_. That was true. But they were at least _somewhat_ polite to Christine, even if it was all an act. Harry, though, they didn't even pretend with Harry. Something had to be going on!

Unfortunately, Christine could think of nothing that would help her figure out _what_ was going on, and she only had half an hour to get ready for Mrs. Harris's.

* * *

At 11:30, Christine knocked on the door of Number 13, Magnolia Crescent to find a house that looked very much like the Dursleys'. 

She met four women who looked, spoke, acted, and probably thought very much alike.

She ate food and drank tea that tasted very much like the food at the Dursleys' house.

And all through the sickeningly sweet chatter and gossip, all Christine could think about was one thing.

Harry Potter.

* * *

A/N: Well, there it is. Another chapter. I'm a little bit self-conscious about this one, so if you would review I would be really, really happy. 

**american-born-confused-desi:** Thank you. I considered doing a chapter from Petunia's point of view when I first started, but this fic is really about Harry and Christine. That doesn't mean that we won't see Petunia or hear what she thinks, though. It just won't be from her point of view.

**CommaSplice:** Thank you very much!

**sabrina: **Wow! That's a lot of questions! Well, if you've ever watched Wife Swap, you'll know that there will be two very good occasions for Christine to yell at Vernon, and one to yell at Dudley, and believe me, she won't pass them up. She will move Harry out of the cupboard, don't worry. You'll find out what Petunia has been doing later on. And as for Harry's magic on national television- it's a great idea, but I don't think I'll use it. I've already put in a little bit of accidental magic, and Christine will get far too suspicious if she sees anymore. It's actually key to the plot that Christine not know that Harry's a wizard yet, but know that something weird is going on. You'll see.

**Midgette:** Thank you. I have.

Again, please review!


	5. Rule Change

Disclaimer: You guys know by now.

A/N: Well, here we are with another chapter. Seasoned fans of Wife Swap should know by the title what's coming up in this chapter. It should be fun, so I won't delay any longer.

* * *

Christine sat in the kitchen of Number 4, Privet Drive, staring at a blank notebook. The first week of her stay with the Dursleys was almost up, and it was time to change the rules.

The boys were at school, and Vernon was at work. Christine was alone in the house except for the cameramen.

She had so many changes to make that she didn't even know where to begin. This family needed serious adjustments.

Finally, Christine began to write. She didn't stop for two hours.

* * *

Vernon and Dudley sat on the couch in the living room. Although it was a three-person couch, Vernon and Dudley took it up without a problem, so Harry sat off to one side in an uncomfortable chair. Christine stood in front of them all, list of new rules in hand. Some cameras were on Christine, others on the Dursleys. One was on Harry.

"Well," said Christine, not quite knowing how to begin. "Well," she started again.

"Well what?" said Vernon irritatedly. "What are these new rules, then?"

"Well, the first new rule deals with Harry. Actually, quite a few of the rules are about Harry."

In his corner, Harry perked up. He even looked slightly hopeful.

"The first rule is- Harry's bedroom. He can't sleep in that cupboard anymore. Not when you have extra rooms upstairs. So today I'm moving him to Dudley's second bedroom."

Harry's eyes widened as if he couldn't believe his luck.

"NO!" shouted Dudley. Christine was under the impression that he would have jumped up if he had thought it would be worth the effort. "No! He can't have my room! I need it!"

"I'm not kicking you out of the room you sleep in, Dudley. I'm not even going to make you move your stuff out of Harry's, at least not now. Harry's going to sleep there. It will be his room. If you want any of the stuff in it, you can move it."

Dudley looked as if he were going to throw a tantrum, but stopped at a glare from his father.

"Another thing about Harry- he does entirely too much work around here. From now on, Vernon, you'll be making dinner. Dudley, you'll be doing the dishes. I'll clean while I'm at home during the day, and Dudley and Vernon can help me with little things like sweeping. Harry is being relieved of chores for the week."

Harry's jaw dropped.

This time, Vernon and Dudley _both_ exploded.

"I won't do any dishes!"

"Make dinner! While that lazy, good-for-nothing…"

"But I don't _want_ to sweep!"

Christine yet them yell for a moment until she had had enough.

"You _will_ follow my rules! Harry is _not_ lazy Vernon. He does more work around this place than you do."

"_I_ work to put food on this table."

"That doesn't mean that you can't help to keep that table clean. Besides, what about Dudley? If Harry has to do these chores, why doesn't he?"

Vernon opened his mouth as if to provide a clinching argument as to _why_ Harry should work, but seemed to think better of it. He sat back in the couch with a huff.

"Third, Harry needs clothes that fit. Tomorrow I'm picking him up from school and we're going to get new clothes for him."

Vernon glared but said nothing. Harry just shook his head disbelievingly.

"Dudley, I have two rules for you. The first is about your room. It's a mess, and I want you to clean it."

Dudley looked as if he was about to start arguing, but his father shook his head at him. He looked angrily at his father, and then glared at Christine.

"The second is your diet. I'm putting you on a balanced diet, Dudley. That means vegetables and fruit along with all of your junk food. Actually, I'm cutting you off from junk food."

"WHAT?" shouted Dudley.

"Now, really, there's no need for…" started Vernon, but Christine cut him off.

"No. Don't try to stop me. I lived under your rules, now you're going to live under mine. Dudley's diet is unhealthy, and I'm only trying to help. So Dudley, you're going to follow your new diet."

At that, Vernon quieted down, obviously not wanting to make a fuss on national television. Dudley was fuming, but he followed his father's lead. Off in his corner, Harry, was losing a battle not to laugh.

"Now," said Christine, "Harry's about to move into your second bedroom, Dudley, so I suggest that you go move the things that you want to."

Dudley stomped off upstairs, followed shortly by Vernon.

* * *

When Dudley had taken his sweet time removing a sum total of three things from his second bedroom, Christine helped Harry to gather his things and carry them up to his new room. She was appalled at how few things he had. Two pairs of jeans, five shirts, five pairs of socks, five sets of underwear. Nothing more. The room already had a bed and blanket and sheets and pillows, so they didn't even bother to remove the cot.

Upon entering his new room, Harry promptly set his things on the bed and just looked around.

"It's so big," he said.

The room was small. Ten feet by fifteen, actually, which isn't huge. But Christine supposed that anything that wasn't a cupboard would seem big to Harry.

"Yeah," said Christine awkwardly. She wasn't sure what one said in conversations like these.

Harry, meanwhile, was still staring at the room.

"I'd better go supervise dinner with your Uncle," said Christine.

"Bye, Christine," said Harry. "Thank you," he added, so quietly that she almost missed it.

* * *

After dinner (chicken, asparagus, salad, strawberries, and bread) Christine made sure that Dudley did the dishes. The boy seemed close to throwing a fit, but the presence of cameras which would be showing his every move on national television seemed to calm him somewhat, and he got through it with nothing more than grumbling.

Christine cleaned the rest of the kitchen herself. As she worked, she thought about her own life. Her daughter, Jessica, was just two years younger than these children. Christine couldn't imagine her child in the position of either Dudley or Harry. She didn't want to.

Christine had only spent a week with the Dursleys, and already she appreciated her normal life more than she had ever thought possible.

* * *

A/N: Yes, I know it's a short chapter, but it just seemed like a good place to end. Still to come, we have clothes shopping with Harry, more yelling at the Dursleys, and a big twist that I hope no one sees coming. It should be fun!

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed!

**power214063:** I really did think long and hard about Petunia, but in the end I decided against it. This story is about Christine and Harry, not Petunia. Like I said before, that _doesn't_ mean that we won't find out how Petunia fared. We just won't see it from her point of view. Fans of Wife Swap should have figured out by now how this will happen.

**american-born-confused-desi: **Thank you! Actually, it's towards the end of the year, so I don't have a ton of homework, plus we had half-days all next week. I'll still be updating pretty regularly though.

**HaRrYrOMuhSoX:** Wow, your name is hard to type. I know that my chapters are short. Often the reason is simply that I find a place that I like for an ending, and there's only so much that I can write to fill up the chapter. All of my chapters _have_ been at least five pages long.

**Insanitysplea:** Thank you! I'm glad you like it! As I said before, I won't actually be writing a scene of Petunia at Christine's house, but you will get to find out a little about what happened.

**Midgette:** As you can see from the chapter, Harry's reaction is torn between disbelief and amusement. We'll see more of his thoughts on the matter in the next chapter.

**veritas: **I'm also a fan of Wife Swap, although I wasn't watching it when I thought of this story. I was watching Hope and Faith, quite by accident really, as I never watch that show. Anyway, they were doing a "Wife Swap" episode, and I started thinking about how Harry would react… And thus this fic was born.

Wow! Six reviews! Thanks again to all those who took the time to review, and please review again!


	6. Following the Rules

Disclaimer: Not…again….

A/N: Well, here's the sixth chapter. **Sabrina** brought up that she doesn't know the rules of the show, so for any readers out there who aren't familiar with Wife Swap, I thought I'd explain it.

Basically, the wives in two radically different families switch places for two weeks. For the first week, the wives have to live by the rules of the family they're living with, pretty much taking the place of their counterpart. In the second week, though, the wives get to make the rules, and change the things that they think are wrong with the family. At the end of the two weeks, the couples meet (without their children) and talk to each other about what they experienced.

Hope that clears everything up!

* * *

Christine pulled up in front of Harry and Dudley's elementary school just as the kids were getting out. As kids poured out of the doors, Christine could have sworn that she saw Dudley push several small children over. It took her longer for her to spot Harry. He was walking slowly, not at all part of the mad rush. Then he saw her in the car and sped up. Dudley also saw Christine. He looked torn between asking her for a ride and taking the bus. He opted for the bus.

"Hi Christine!" said Harry, coming up to the car.

"Hi Harry," said Christine, reaching across the passenger seat and opening the door. The cameraman was in the back seat. "Are you ready to go shopping for some new clothes?"

"Yeah," said Harry, getting into the car and buckling his seatbelt.

Christine pulled out of the school's driveway and started down the road towards the mall. There was an awkward silence. This was another one of those situations where Christine just didn't know what to say.

"So… What do you think of your new room?" asked Christine, trying to break the tension.

"It's great," said Harry. "Thank you so much."

"There's no need to thank me Harry- there was absolutely no need for you to sleep in that cupboard," said Christine seriously.

"Mm-hm," said Harry, staring out his window.

Silence reigned once more. Not another word was said until they reached the mall.

"Well, come on," said Christine as she and Harry got out of the car, with the cameraman close behind.

The entered a shop. "What size are you?" asked Christine, looking at a rack of jeans.

"I-I don't know," said Harry.

"You don't know?" said Christine.

"I've never been clothes shopping for myself before," said Harry.

"Well, then you'll have to try a few sizes on," said Christine. She tried to decide what size he would be. She didn't have a son, so she wasn't sure on boys' sizes, but she was pretty sure that Harry was between a four and a seven.

After trying on about five pairs of jeans, Harry discovered that he was a size six. Christine bought him three pairs of jeans, ten T-shirts, five sweaters, and a few pairs of socks. There was very little time for talking, because Harry had to try everything on, as he had no concept of what would fit him and what wouldn't.

* * *

Upon their return to the Dursley household, Christine helped Harry to put away his new clothes.

"Thank you so much, Christine," said Harry when they were done.

"You're welcome," said Christine.

Christine walked into the hallway and decided to check to see if Dudley's room was clean. She had done some cleaning today, but she hadn't gone in Dudley's room, because she wanted him to clean that himself.

Christine knocked on the door.

"C'min," called Dudley.

Christine opened the door. Dudley was playing a computer game while watching television. The things strewn across his room hadn't been touched.

"Dudley, clean your room," said Christine.

"But I don' _wanna_," whined Dudley.

That was it. Christine had had it with this spoiled child. He needed a serious attitude adjustment.

"Dudley," said Christine, picking her way through the mess on the floor, "if you don't clean up your room by this time tomorrow, I will take away your computer, your stereo, _and_ your television."

"No!" said Dudley.

"Yes," said Christine. "I've had it up to here with you. You have to learn discipline, and you have to follow the rules that I've set. Clean up your room by tomorrow or the computer, stereo, and television are gone. End of discussion."

Before Dudley could even argue, Christine left the room. She almost felt sorry for Dudley. He hadn't chosen his parents. But the fact remained that he was a spoiled brat who apparently beat little kids (and Harry) up, and somehow, she couldn't bring herself to be sympathetic.

Christine descended the stairs to see how Vernon was doing with dinner. She found him in the living room, watching television. It was going on seven o'clock.

Christine walked to the television and turned it off.

"What the blasted hell do you think you're doing?" said Vernon, outraged.

"_You're_ supposed to be making dinner!" said Christine, hands on her hips.

"But…"

"No buts. Go. Make. Dinner."

In light of the fact that there were cameras following his every move, Vernon acquiesced and slunk off to the kitchen, as well as a man of his size can slink.

* * *

The next day, Christine checked on Dudley at exactly seven o'clock. She was going to follow through with her word. If Dudley's room wasn't clean, all of his fancy electronics would be gone.

She knocked on the door.

"Come in Christine," said a fake sweet voice.

Christine pushed the door open into a surprisingly clean room. There were no toys on the floor, no candy wrappers, and no clothes. It looked as if Dudley had cleaned his room.

But Christine had a seven-year-old daughter, and she knew all of the tricks. She smiled, nodded to Dudley, then walked over to his closet and jerked the door open.

In a scene reminiscent of a cartoon, things began spilling out of the closet into a huge heap on the floor. _There_ were the toys, the clothes, even the food containers. Dudley had stuffed everything in his closet.

Christine turned and gave him a look that said "Well? Do you have an explanation?"

"I- Well- Well, my room _is_ clean!"

"No, it isn't Dudley," said Christine. "Obviously it's not clean, if every time you have to get clothes out of your closet, everything comes out on the floor."

"But…"

"No buts," said Christine. She was getting tired of that phrase. "I told you what I was going to do if you didn't clean your room. You'll get these back when you've cleaned this mess up." Christine gestured to the computer, TV, and stereo.

"NO!" screamed Dudley.

"I'm sorry Dudley," said Christine, unplugging the television, "but this is the only way I can get you to follow the rules.

"NO! I NEED THAT STUFF!" shouted Dudley as Christine started carrying the television down the stairs.

Christine opened the cupboard under the stairs. "You don't need it. I would never deprive you of anything you really need," said Christine, thinking of the state of Harry's clothes, and the food _he_ ate. "These are things that you _want_. And you'll get them back when your room is clean. All you have to do is clean your room." Christine put the television inside the cupboard. Then she put the computer and stereo in with it, Dudley screaming the whole time.

Harry watched the whole scene, his door slightly ajar.

* * *

Harry seemed to be much happier with these new rule changes, Christine noted happily on Saturday. Just yesterday, Dudley had finally cleaned his room, and he was now in that room, playing computer games. Harry and Christine were at the park.

"Christine, look what I can do!" shouted Harry. He swung himself hand-over-hand all the way across the monkey bars.

"Good job Harry!" said Christine. She was sitting on a bench, watching him play.

Yes, all in all Christine was happy with her rule changes. But she was leaving tomorrow. And after that, she couldn't change anything.

* * *

A/N: Well, there you have it. Chapter six. I hope you liked it. It was actually a very fun chapter to write. Surprisingly, it required research. I've never shopped for a nine-year-old boy before, so I had to research sizes. I wanted Harry to be on the absolute smallest end of the spectrum, so I made him a size six in children's, which is for boys who are about 3' 10" to 4' and weigh about 44 lbs. This is the optimal size for a six-year old.

I have about three more chapters in this story, and I know almost exactly what happens, so they should be up pretty quickly.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed!

**SongOfRoland:** Thank you. I like reading pre-Hogwarts stories too, which is part of the reason that I went ahead and posted this.

**HaRrYrOxMuhSoX:** Yes, things are finally looking up for Harry. They're about to be looking down though; keep reading. And this chapter was update within a week _and_ it's my longest yet, so there!

**sabrina:** Well, here's the next chapter.

As always, I leave you with a request for reviews. Please!


	7. Goodbye

Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling. I'm an as yet unpublished aspiring author with too much free time.

A/N: Another chapter. We're getting near the end. There are still a couple of chapters to go, though. Repeat: this is NOT the last chapter!

* * *

Christine was waiting for the limo. It was Sunday morning, and in a few hours, she would see her husband for the first time in two weeks, then meet for a discussion with the Dursley couple. She had more than a few things to say to them.

First, though, she had to say the hardest thing of all. Goodbye.

Christine knocked onto the door of what was, and would hopefully remain, Harry's room.

"Come in," said an unhappy voice.

Christine pushed open the door. Harry was sitting on the bed, looking down. Christine sat down beside him.

"You'll be welcome at my house whenever you want, Harry," said Christine.

"Thanks," said Harry.

"Here," she said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a piece of paper. She gave it to Harry. "That's my phone number and address. Write or call whenever you like."

"Thank you so much Christine," said Harry. He turned to face her, and Christine saw that he was crying. She pulled him into a hug.

"You are a wonderful person, Harry," said Christine, and then she couldn't talk, because she was crying too.

Just then, the limousine could be heard pulling up outside the house.

"It's time to go!" said one of the cameramen.

"Alright," said Christine, drying her face on her sleeve. "Just a moment."

"Goodbye, Christine," said Harry, hugging her again.

"Goodbye Harry. Don't forget to write," said Christine.

Then she left.

* * *

Christine had never been happier to see anyone in her entire life than when she saw David after two weeks at the Dursleys' house. She would never take her husband's help and love and kindness for granted, not after Vernon.

"I missed you, so, so much," she whispered in his ear.

"I missed you too," he said.

According to the rules of the show, Christine and David now had to talk to the Dursleys about their experience on the show. On their way to the conference room, Christine and David had their own little talk.

"Petunia's horrible!" said David. "She's backstabbing, fake, a terrible gossip, and during her week she basically let Jessica do anything she wanted! Is the rest of the family like that?"

"Yeah," said Christine. "Well, except for one of the boys, Harry. He's not actually the Dursleys' son, he's their nephew, and, well…"

"Well what?" said David.

Christine told him about what she'd seen at the Dursleys'.

"That's horrible!" said David.

"I know," said Christine, "I know."

They had reached the conference room. Christine and David sat down on one side of the little rectangular table and Vernon and Petunia sat on the other. There were cameras all around them. The tension and dislike in the air was palpable.

"So," said Christine, "I guess I'll start."

"Well?" said Vernon impatiently. "Get on with it!"

"Well, to start with… Harry."

"What about Harry?" asked Petunia indignantly?

"He's…" Christine struggled to find the right words. "He's treated entirely unfairly!"

"Ex_cuse_ me?"

"There are two open bedrooms in your house, and he sleeps in a cupboard. Dudley eats four times as much as Harry does. And you have plenty of money, but Harry has to wear hand me downs that don't even come close to fitting him!"

"Now, you're exaggerating. Dudley needs…" Vernon started, but Christine cut him off.

"Don't you tell me what Dudley needs, Vernon! He did just fine without that second bedroom for a week, and he'd be fine without it the rest of the time!"

"But his things…" said Vernon, going red in the face.

"No! If he only took three things out of that room when Harry moved in, then…"

"WHAT?" shouted Petunia. "You took away _my Dudley's_ second room to give to that… that…" She seemed at a loss for words.

"Quiet! Quiet, everyone!" said David. Christine wasn't surprised. He'd always been the peace-keeper. Truth be told, she was a little embarrassed for getting carried away like that, but she'd felt that she had to.

Petunia didn't seem to want to "be quiet," though.

"Well, that little girl of yours is _abnormal_! She spends all of her time making up stories… About witches and dragons and monsters! It's not _natural_!"

That was too much even for David, who was normally very patient.  
"I happen to think that Jessica is a brilliant girl with a wonderful imagination!" he said angrily.

"Things like…_witches_…are not _wonderful_!" sneered Petunia.

"Is _that_ what this is about?" said Christine. "Is Harry just too _imaginative_ for you?"

"You will never understand our life! You will _never_ understand who we are, so don't you _dare_ judge us!" said Petunia.

"He's _your_ sister's son! He's _your_ family! How could you be so unfair to him?" said Christine.

"Being my sister's son doesn't make him family!" said Petunia.

"I can't… How…" Christine was at a loss for words.

"Come on," said David, guiding his wife out of her chair. "We're leaving."

As she walked out of the door, Christine turned around and caught one last glimpse of the couple who she hated.

And that was the last time she ever saw the Dursleys.

* * *

A/N: Well, I hope you like the chapter. I'm sorry that it was so short, but I had a set point where I needed this chapter to end, and there was only so much that I could put in before that point. Let me repeat one last time. This is NOT the last chapter! There's at least one more, and there may be up to three!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

**american-born-confused-desi:** Yeah, that was my favorite part of the chapter. The shopping part was hard to write, a little awkward, and required research, but the part with Dudley just…came. I just hate him so much!

**sabrina:** You're welcome! I also love hearing about Dudley getting trouble, but I don't think that it happens nearly often enough! That was actually one of the few ad-libbed parts of this entire story. I've had the whole story mapped out in my head since before I even started to set it to paper, but I didn't know that the part with Dudley was coming until I got there.

**Insanitysplea:** Thank you! Yes, it does mean that the story is finishing soon, but again, this isn't the last chapter.

Please review people! Reviews make me feel warm and fuzzy inside!


	8. I Thought I'd Never See You Again

Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling. In a month and a half, though, that won't matter anymore, because I'll have the sixth book, and I'll be happy.

A/N: Well, we're _really_ near the end now. I don't know if this is the last chapter or not; there's a very good chance that it is. If it is, I'll let you know at the end.

Also, you reviewers seem to be a lot nicer to Harry than I am. (Well, except for you, Sodapop, having read your fic.) But I'm going to tell you right now what you'll find out in about two seconds anyway; Harry is _not_ going to live with Christine. I'm very sorry, and I understand why you want him to, but that's just not what happens. You'll see.

* * *

On the morning of August 2, 1995, Christine Walker sat at the breakfast table in her house, sun pouring in through the open windows. England had been in a drought for a few weeks, and even at nine in the morning, it was closing in on 90 degrees.

Across from Christine sat her daughter, Jessica. Jessica was reading a newspaper, her head bent over, long blonde hair cascading over her freckled face.

Christine often worried that she didn't talk with her daughter enough. Jessica was thirteen, and about to enter her third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Christine wasn't a witch- according to Jessica, she was what was called a "Muggle"- and she didn't really understand her daughter's world. During the summers, she tried to talk with her daughter about the world of magic, but it seemed to her that Jessica got very irritated by her ignorance, so they talked about other things.

Jessica put down the Daily Prophet and shook her head.

"I don't know _what's_ gotten into Dumbledore. _Really_! All this business about You Know Who…"

"Who's You Know Who, and what does he have to do with your headmaster?" asked Christine, intrigued.

"Didn't I ever tell you about You Know Who?" asked Jessica.

"I don't think so," said Christine.

"He was a wizard that was so evil that people are afraid to say his name even now, when he's been gone for almost fifteen years."

"He was that bad?"

"Yeah, that bad. Anyway, now Dumbledore's saying that he's back, which is just ridiculous."

Christine was confused. "But I thought that you thought Dumbledore was brilliant?"

"Well, yes," said Jessica, "but he must be going senile or _something_. I mean, there's no way that You Know Who can be back. There's just no way. Besides, if he really were back, I'm sure the Minister of Magic would know, and he's been publicly _denying_ You Know Who's return."

"Well, does anyone _else_ say that You Know Who's back?" asked Christine. "I mean, where's Dumbledore getting the story?"

"Well, there is one supposed witness to his return…but he's almost certainly clinically insane…"

"Who is it?" Christine asked.

"Harry Potter."

Harry Potter? There was no way… It must be a coincidence… But then Christine remembered, as if from a distant past, the night Vernon Dursley's voice had been mysteriously silenced.

"This Harry Potter… Who's he?" asked Christine.

"Well, he's the Boy-Who-Lived. When he was one, You Know Who came after him. He killed Harry Potter's parents, but when he tried to kill Harry, the curse backfired- no one knows why- and You Know Who was destroyed."

So Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, had dead parents…

"You say his parents are dead… Who does he live with?" asked Christine.

"Er, I think he lives with relatives… His cousins. No! His aunt and uncle!"

The Boy-Who-Lived lived with his aunt and uncle. There were too many coincidences. Christine had to say something.

"This Harry Potter, does he have black hair?" asked Christine.

"Yeah."

"Glasses?"

"Yeah."

"Green eyes?"

"Erm, I think so."

"Does he have a lightning shaped scar on his forehead?" Christine knew that if the next answer was yes, there could be no doubt.

"Yes, he does! It happened when You Know Who couldn't kill him! But how do you know about that?" said Jessica suspiciously.

Christine sighed. "Jessica, do you remember when you were seven, before we knew you were a witch, how we went on that show, Wife Swap?"

"Yeah…" said Jessica.

"Do you remember the woman who stayed with you, Petunia Dursley?"

"Yeah, she was a jerk," said Jessica.

"I think she's Harry Potter's aunt."

"What!" said Jessica.

"I went to stay with the Dursleys, and they had a nephew, Harry. Harry Potter. Harry Potter, who had black hair, glasses, green eyes, and a lightning shaped scar on his forehead."

"Oh…my…God," said Jessica. "You know Harry Potter!"

"I know Harry Potter," said Christine, nodding.

"I- I can't believe it," said Jessica.

"So he's saying that this You Know Who is back?" said Christine.

"Yes, but like I said, he's insane. He can talk to snakes, and he's constantly fainting or saying that his scar hurts."

"He didn't seem crazy when I knew him," said Christine.

"People change, Mom," said Jessica.

"Well just…give Harry a chance, Jessica. Listen to his story. He's had a hard life," said Christine.

"Sure, Mom," said Jessica incredulously, picking her newspaper back up and beginning to read.

* * *

Her conversation with Jessica had given Christine a lot to think about. She thought about Harry as she saw her daughter off, wondering if he was nearby, wondering if he was alright. She thought about Harry every day during the school year. She thought about him when Jessica came home over Christmas vacation and announced that he had disappeared a few days before the start holidays, along with his best friend, and no one knew where he had gone.

Then one day in very early spring, Christine received a thin cylindrical package from her daughter. The owl was also carrying a note which read simply, "Read this. Love, Jessica."

Christine ripped open the package with trembling hands, and out popped…a magazine. On the cover was a picture of a boy who looked about fifteen years old. He had messy black hair, green eyes, round black glasses, and a lightning shaped scar. He was unmistakably Harry.

Christine opened the magazine to the page noted on the cover and began to read. By the time she was halfway through the article she was openly crying. Hadn't this boy gone through enough? Wasn't it enough that he'd grown up in a house where nobody liked him, let alone loved him? Did he really have to go through this?

David, Christine's husband, found her, red eyed and pale, at the kitchen table an hour later.

"Christine? Christine, what's wrong?" he asked concernedly, sitting next to her.

"Oh, David," she moaned, and then she buried her head in his shoulder, the tears flowing again.

* * *

That summer, Jessica came home with more distressing news.

"I was talking to this girl in my house that's a year ahead of me," she told her mother, "Her name is Luna Lovegood, and she's a bit crazy. Anyway, she told me that Harry Potter's godfather is dead. Apparently he was that guy who everyone thought was a crazed mass murderer… Anyway, he's dead."

"His…his godfather's dead?" said Christine. It wasn't exactly a question.

"Yeah. Well, Luna said something about Harry maybe seeing him again someday, but Luna's a bit dotty that way."

* * *

Christine spent the next month debating what to do. She knew that she wanted to talk to Harry. This was the last straw. She had to do something to help him.

At first, she had considered sending him a letter. But no, that wasn't personal enough. She needed to meet him face to face. She knew where he lived during the summer, but unless the Dursleys had changed drastically over the years, they would hardly appreciate her showing up at their doorstep unannounced.

Finally, Christine decided to send a letter to the one person who would surely be able to set up a meeting between her and Harry- Albus Dumbledore.

After asking her daughter if she could borrow her owl, Christine sat down at the kitchen table with a roll of parchment and a ballpoint pen- she never could get the hang of those quills.

_Dear Sir,_

_My name is Christine Walker. My daughter, Jessica Walker, is going into fourth year at your school. She is a Muggleborn; I am a Muggle._

_Seven years ago, I appeared on a Muggle television show called Wife Swap. I switched places with the wife in another family. The woman with whom I switched was named Petunia Dursley._

_During the two weeks I stayed with the Dursleys, I grew to know and care about the boy named Harry Potter, without ever knowing who he was in your world. Since then, he and I have lost touch. However, I have learned of the events surrounding him and a wizard known as "You Know Who" and also of his godfather's death._

_Right now, I would like nothing more in the world than to be able to see Harry and speak to him. I don't want to send a letter, but to see him face to face. As that appears to be impossible during the summer, I am most humbly asking for your help to set up a meeting during the school year._

_Thank you very much for your time._

_Sincerely,_

_Christine Walker_

Christine sealed the letter in an envelope which she addressed to Albus Dumbledore. Then she sent her daughter's barn owl off with the letter tied to his leg.

* * *

For a week, Christine waited anxiously for a reply. Finally, on Monday morning, the barn owl tapped on the window of her kitchen while she, David and Jessica were eating breakfast.

"Carrie!" said Jessica, going to get her owl. Carrie was the owl's name. Jessica untied the letter that was attached to the owl's leg and handed it to her mother.

"It's for you," she said.

Sure enough, on the front was written "Christine Walker" followed by her address.

Christine ripped open the envelope and pulled out the letter.

_Dear Ms. Walker,_

_I was already aware of your connection with Mr. Potter, having checked in on him on more than a few occasions during his childhood. I would like to help you to meet him this year._

_On the morning of September 5 of this year, a woman will come to your door. If she can change her appearance to that of you daughter, you will know that she is safe. Go with her and do what she says, and you will see Mr. Potter soon._

_On a completely unrelated not, I would like to congratulate you on your daughter's _excellent_ scores on her recent exams!_

_-Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of Merlin, First Class, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot_

It was actually going to happen. She was actually going to see Harry again. It was going to happen.

Christine felt that she was happy enough to burst.

* * *

The morning of September 5 came. Christine had seen Jessica off on the Hogwarts Express just four days before. It hadn't been as sad as most of their start-of-term goodbyes were, because Christine was planning to stop in and see Jessica after her meeting with Harry. Maybe she could introduce the two of them…

Christine was in the living room watching the morning news when she heard the doorbell ring.

"I'm coming!" she shouted, hurrying to the door. She opened it to see a girl with spiky pink hair who was wearing ripped jeans and a T-shirt to match her hair.

"Wotcher, Ms. Walker!" said the girl, inviting herself in. Christine shut the door after her.

"Call me Christine," said Christine.

The girl extended a hand, which Christine shook.

"I'm Nymphadora Tonks," said the girl, "but call me Tonks. Everyone does."

"Okay Tonks," said Christine.

"Oh, right!" said Tonks, narrowly avoiding knocking over the coat stand. "I'm supposed to transform into your daughter!"

"Right," said Christine, a little overwhelmed.

Tonks wrinkled up her face. Christine watched in amazement as she turned into Jessica- short, blonde, and freckled.

"How- how…" stammered Christine.

"I'm a Metamorphmagus. I was born able to do that."

"Okay," said Christine, more than a little fazed.

"Right," said Tonks, changing back to her original self. "So, now it's time to get to Hogwarts. Here, take this." She handed Christine a coat hanger.

"What?" Christine tried to say, but before she could get the word out, she felt a funny sort of jerk behind her navel, and then she was lost in a whirlwind of colors and sounds.

She landed in a heap on the floor of what appeared to be a pub. Tonks was already there, sitting on a table. She rushed forward to help Christine up.

"Sorry about that. I reckon I probably should have told you about the Portkey."

"The what?" asked Christine, straightening her shirt.

"The Portkey. It takes you places instantaneously. I Apparated here, which is sort of like taking a Portkey without touching anything, but only wizards can do that."

"Oh," said Christine.

"Right. We're in the Three Broomsticks, which is in Hogsmeade," said Tonks.

"Hogsmeade? The place that I had to sign the form for Jessica to go to?" asked Christine.

"The very place. It's right outside Hogwarts. From here we're going to Floo into the Gryffindor common room," said Tonks.

"Floo?" asked Christine. Her ignorance of her daughter's world had never been more apparent than it was right now.

"Er, travel through fire places. It's a lot easier than it sounds," said Tonks.

They went into a back room, where a curvy woman who Tonks identified as Madame Rosmerta, the owner of the pub, was waiting.

"The Floo powder is in the can on top of the fireplace," Madame Rosmerta said before leaving the room.

"Right," said Tonks, "now what you have to do is take some of that powder, throw it into the fire, step inside and say 'Gryffindor Common Room."

"I step into the fire?" said Christine skeptically. This did _not_ sound like a good idea.

"Don't worry, it won't hurt you," said Tonks cheerfully as she went to get the can of Floo powder, nearly knocking it over in the process.

"Er- if you say so," said Christine. She took a pinch of the glittering green powder and threw it into the flames, which turned an emerald green.

"Now just step into the flames and say 'Gryffindor Common Room'. You should automatically come out in the right room, but keep an eye out for red and gold furniture, just in case."

"Okay," said Christine. "Are you coming?"

"No. When you get to the common room, just wait for Harry to come."

"Alright," said Christine. "Thank you."

"No problem. Now go!" said Tonks.

Taking a deep breath and trying to remember all of the instructions she had been given, Christine stepped into the fire.

"Gryffindor Common Room!" she called.

In an instant, she was spiraling through what appeared to be a very sooty tunnel. In a matter of seconds, she was deposited into an empty room decorated in red and gold. There were cushy armchairs around the fire place, and tables lined the walls. Off to one side, two spiral staircases led up to a place that Christine couldn't see.

Christine looked down at her watch. It was 11:20. She didn't know what time Harry was supposed to come, so she decided to sit down while she waited.

She didn't have time, however. Before she had even chosen which chair she wanted to sit in, she heard the sound of a door opening behind her.

She turned around and saw a boy in Hogwarts robes coming into the room through what appeared to be not a door, but a portrait. He was a short boy with messy black hair, green eyes, and a lightning shaped scar. He was unmistakably Harry.

"Hello?" Harry called. "Is anyone in here? I got called out of Potions class to come see someone in here."

"Hello, Harry," said Christine.

Harry stopped and looked at her. He seemed to hesitate, then said, "Is- Is that you, Christine?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"How- How…" he stuttered.

"Apparently, my daughter's a witch. She goes to school here," said Christine, smiling.

"She is?"

"Yeah, she's a fourth year Ravenclaw."

Harry still looked confused. "But- But _why_ are you here?" he asked sitting down on one of the chairs.

Christine sat down across from him. "I wanted to see how you are. The news my daughter's brought be hasn't been… the best."

"No, I wouldn't suppose it has," said Harry, rubbing his forehead.

There was an awkward silence. Then-

"Why didn't you ever answer my letters?" asked Christine.

'"You never sent me any!"

"Yes I did," said Christine.

"Then I never got them…"

"Three guesses as to who intercepted them," said Christine grimly.

Harry made a sound that sounded half like a laugh and half like a sigh. "I really only need one."

"Why didn't you ever write to me?" asked Christine, although she was pretty sure she knew the answer.

"They wouldn't let me. They wouldn't let me call, either."

"That certainly sounds like them."

"Yeah."

"So, did you stay in your new room?" asked Christine.

"No, they moved me back to the cupboard pretty much as soon as you left. They got rid of the new clothes too."

"Why?" asked Christine. She still couldn't understand these people.

"Why?" said Harry. "Well, it's because of this. Because I'm a wizard. They knew it, and they never told me. I didn't know until I got my letter."

"So everything they did to you was because you're a wizard?"

"Pretty much."

The entire conversation had the air of two old friends who hadn't spoken for years suddenly picking up the phone and calling each other. And that was sort of what it was.

Christine noticed that there was something different about Harry. As guarded as he had been when he was nine, he seemed even more so now. There was no longer any sense of innocence about him. He seemed almost…resigned.

"Harry, what's the matter? What's wrong?"

Harry bit his lip and shook his head. "Everything. It's just- It's just too much."

"What's too much, Harry?"

"What I have to do. It's too much," he said, leaning back into his chair.

"What do you have to do?" asked Christine.

Harry looked as though he was fighting with himself. He was quiet for a moment, then he said, "I can tell you, but I have to start at the beginning. I kind of have to tell you my life."

"We have all the time in the world."

So Harry started talking. He told Christine about the night his parents were killed, about going to the Dursleys. He told her about his first year, and what he'd found out, and then he told her about his second year, and the basilisk. He told her about finding out he had a godfather. And then he told her about his fourth year. Christine had already read about what had happened, but somehow hearing it from Harry's mouth made it all the worse. She started crying again.

Harry started in on his fifth year. As he started to tell Christine about going to Dumbledore's office after Sirius died, he stopped for a moment.

"Why are you stopping?" asked Christine through tears.

"This next part- I haven't told anyone about this next part yet," said Harry.

"You don't have to tell me," said Christine.

"No, I want to."

Harry told her about the prophecy, and what it meant that he had to do. He told her how he was afraid to tell anyone.

"Oh, Harry," said Christine, and she reached out and pulled him into a hug.

And as Harry started crying, he thought that maybe people wouldn't be afraid of him if they knew what he had to do. He thought about all of his friends, and realized that what he had really wanted had been there ever since he had started at Hogwarts. He had friends, he had people who loved him. He had someone to turn to.

* * *

A/N: I'm really sorry for the cheesy ending, but I just couldn't think of how I wanted to phrase it. I've known the last sentence of this fic since chapter three, I think.

This is the ending. This is the last chapter of this fic. It's also the longest- fourteen pages. I'd like to give a special thank you to **american-born-confused-desi**, who gave me my first ever review, although she didn't review chapter 7. Thank you to each and every person who reviewed this fanfic. I've really, really appreciated them.

And, I just couldn't help myself. I'm making a sequel. (Actually, it may turn into a trilogy.) It's called Alone in the Universe, and this time, Harry's on… Survivor! It's going to be set in the same universe as this fic, so you'll probably hear from Christine again, and you'll definitely hear from Jessica. If the first chapter isn't up by Thursday, it'll be up by June 22, so keep checking my author's page. Anyone who reviews this chapter will have their review answered in the first chapter of Alone in the Universe.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed!

**power214063:** I feel so mean! Everyone is reviewing, asking me to please have Harry go live with Christine, and here I am, making them lose touch for seven years! Unfortunately for Harry, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with this fic when I started it. I didn't want it to actually change the canon plotline, and I didn't want Harry to live with Christine. The story isn't even officially AU yet, actually. God, I feel like such a horrible person…

**Sodapop CurtisDX:** Thank you. You're **the return of merry**, right? Yeah, when I originally had the idea for this fic, Dudley's discipline wasn't in it. I added it because… I guess because I felt like it. I'm really glad that you think I captured the characters, because that was one of my main objectives going into this.

**sabrina: **Oh, you're making me feel like a horrible person again. Oh! I sort of used your idea of Harry and Jessica getting married in that line where Christina's thinking about maybe introducing the two of them. I've also decided to have them dating in Alone in the Universe. After that, I just don't know. AndI'll have to check out that story. Thanks for the suggestion!

**Violet Aiken:** Whenever someone meets me for the first time, they always call me "Madeline," like the character from the children's book. This has had the unfortunate side effect of making me absolutely adore Madeline, even now, when I'm well out of my preschool years. And yes, I noticed our characters' last names, but I forgot to mention it in the review. It's weird, isn't it? Yes, it's been fun having someone on Harry's side. That's part of what I like about this story. I'm glad you like this story, and I'm sorry that you had to come into it so late. If you read Alone in the Universe when I post it, though, I'm going to keep it in the same universe as this story, so you'll get to hear from Christine and Jessica.

Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed this story. Please review again!


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